


Xavier’s Home For Imaginary Friends

by not_who_we_are, orphan_account



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternative Universe - Powered, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mental Hospitals, Mental Illnesses, Paralyzed Charles, Plot Twist, Slow Build, Unrequited Love, Westchester Mansion, loosely inspired by Foster's Home for Imaginary Friends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-21
Updated: 2013-01-21
Packaged: 2017-11-26 08:50:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/648786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_who_we_are/pseuds/not_who_we_are, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Charles is paralyzed in a tragic accident, he’s tempted to believe his life is over. But with the support of his sister Raven, he finds the courage to build a new life and pursue unrealized dreams.</p><p>A second chance at life is something Charles is unwilling to waste. Xavier’s Home For Mutant Friends, a place for orphaned mutants to hone their powers, becomes his life and passion. He suddenly finds himself at the center of a growing family that is not without its struggles.</p><p>When Erik joins the staff of Xavier’s Home, Charles finds a friend, a confidant, and someone who is able to stir his passions once more.</p><p>But even as Charles works towards recovery, and his new life seems filled with possibility, things may not be as picture-perfect as they seem.</p><p>(The story changes depending on who's telling it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Xavier’s Home For Imaginary Friends

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize in advance for any inaccuracies in this story, all research was done from our own experiences and that of the internet. 
> 
> That being said, thank you to **not_who_we_are** for writing this with me and being so amazing throughout. You will never cease to amaze me with your talent. Thank you for coming on board with me on this journey, this story wouldn't have been possible without you. 
> 
> My lovely artist, **vampire_cake** , who is incredibly talented with her gorgeous art, a big thank you to you too you lovely darling. Please do check it out [ here](http://gabrielatio.tumblr.com/post/41096643293/this-is-my-first-time-joining-a-bb-project-and)!  
> 

**Chapter 1**

It was a classic hit and run case.

Charles should have paid attention when he crossed the road; he really should have. He was a hypocrite. It was so easy to instill all the good habits in Raven, but when it came to himself, he'd throw them out the window the minute he were on his own.

There would be no regretting it now. What had happened had happened, and no amount of tears, scotch, or self hatred would secure the return of his legs.

Raven hired the best lawyers and investigators to seek out the fucker who had run Charles down. She said she felt confident they'd track him down no matter where he was hiding; he—she assumed it was a he—was going to pay for the damage he had done and Raven would personally break _his_ legs if the police wouldn’t do it.

No one was going to run over the only brother she ever had and get away with it. No one. Charles was appreciative of her actions, if not highly doubtful of the chances they would ever find the culprit.

The accident was downright gory. Charles had just finished lecturing at his university and was heading home to rest. When he stepped out onto the road he hadn’t noticed the car swerving erratically in its lane, heading straight for him. A shout came from the somewhere in the distance, and before he knew it, the car’s headlights were blinding him. He was tossed like a rag doll and flung ten meters down the street. The last thing he remembered before passing out was the sharp, metallic taste of blood in his mouth.

“Considering the nature of the accident, it’s really a miracle you’re still alive,” the doctor said. It might’ve sounded rude and callous, but Charles knew that wasn’t the case; it was the mere simple truth. It really was pure luck that he was still alive. Even with that knowledge and understanding, it was difficult to remain optimistic when the doctor told him he'd likely be stuck in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. It was difficult to stay hopeful when the first time he had tried to use the bathroom by himself he was struck with such excruciating pain and left reddened with embarrassment. The nurses were nothing but polite and professional about it, but Charles couldn’t shake the palpable pity they gave off whenever they thought he wasn’t looking.

It was times like these that made people really think about what they wanted from their lives. It made one consider how foolish they'd been thus far. Only now Charles realized that the endless string of one night stands were meaningless. The misspent youth lashing out and partying left him empty. The relationships he had buried himself in, not a single one of them was worth fighting for, and yet he had invested so much time in them. He did _not_ regret the days of holing up in the library, plunging himself into one book after the other. That is where he found his true self. But he now found that he regretted almost everything else. He now hated his life.

If given the chance, if he ever recovered, he would do things differently. He would quit his teaching job, take the money his parents left him, and use it to start an orphanage. But it wouldn’t be any ordinary orphanage; it would be an orphanage just for mutants. Mutants that weren’t accepted by society, mutants deemed dangerous, ugly, vile, disgusting. Outcasts. He would take them all in, protect them, love them, guide them. He’d always known he’d wanted a proper family all his own, but, especially now, he just couldn’t see himself starting one. He had enjoyed his job at the university. It only made sense to combine the two things he was still sure of: teaching and nurturing. So why not a mutant orphanage? There he would be able to give wayward children a home, a school, a place to hone their abilities. Most importantly he would be able to offer the chance for a better life. He would call it Xavier’s Home.

No. That sounded a tad too self-centered, really. And it didn’t sound at all like an orphanage, or a school. Xavier’s Home for… Mutants?

Xavier’s Home for Mutant Friends.

Oh, that’s good! Bloody brilliant actually. Xavier’s Home for Mutant Friends, that’s what he would call it. Cliché maybe, but pleasant to the ears. He would finally put the mansion left behind by his parents to good use.

Charles let a smile pull at his lips. His boyish grin had been all but absent since the accident, yet the idea alone jostled something inside of him. It would work. And what a wonderful life he would build with the children; the many little rascals running about with jubilant eyes and firmly cemented smiles.

Charles cast his gaze out the window and down at the hospital garden avoiding his own refection in the glass. He knew all he would see staring back is a man he no longer recognized. His body was slowly becoming a prison and as his gaze flitted down towards his lap. He stared down at himself in the chair, at his legs, immobile. He breathed a heavy sigh.

If only he had that second chance. If only.

* * *

In the months after he had left the hospital, Charles endured the most painful, most pitiful looks from strangers. Their contorted facial expressions left them open like a well-worn book and their thoughts were practically shouted at him.

**_That poor young man, he seems so decent. I wonder what happened._ **

**_Gosh, poor guy. Kinda cute too._ **

**_Maybe it was karma, I bet he offended someone in his previous life. Hah. Fuck, I seriously need my cup of coffee._ **

It was beyond frustrating. These passersby were all but reaffirming the end of his life. He was crippled and therefore only fit to receive pity. In these situations all he could do was put up his mental shields and block out the unwanted thoughts. Their expressions still remained.

On particularly trying days, he would lose control and everything, all the sympathy and pity and projected grief, would fly straight at him. It was on those days he would cry himself to sleep, the thought of suicide dancing a fine thread in his mind. Charles feared the anger and loathing was slowly eroding his heart.

If it wasn’t for Raven’s unceasing support, Charles may have never lived through it.

A year later, Raven would accompany Charles to the hospital for his checkup. Charles would wait patiently for his turn. He would put on a tired smile, just for Raven, and the sweet girl would squeeze his hand just that much tighter, sending him a hopeful smile of her own.

 “Don’t worry about it, Charles. I’m sure it’s going to be good news this time around. I’m sure of it. I feel it right in my gut, right here,” she said, patting her chest cheerfully. Her eyes bore into his. They were filled with so much hope that he struggled to hold back tears.

Charles could only nod his head silently while he waited to be called.

When they left the hospital afterwards, Charles could barely contain the excitement he felt; Relief and happiness spread through him and he was unable to suppress his near fit of joy. Raven kneeled down in front of him and threw her arms around his neck, pulling him close and laughing with him.

“I told you it would be good news! I just knew it! Oh Charles, I’m so happy for you!”

He was unabashedly happy for himself too, because the doctor reported the most recent tests had shown some improvement and he on his way, albeit slowly, to recovery. He might not gain full control of his legs any time soon, but still, it was a start, and that was good enough for him. The hope alone was enough to light the spark he feared had been snuffed out forever.

* * *

“Wouldn’t it be brilliant? We could finally put the mansion to good use! Better to turn it into something beneficial then to let it sit, collecting dust, don’t you think so? Besides, I’ve always wanted a family of my own, always wanted children.” He was rambling now, but didn’t care, and his enthusiasm was practically gushing out. Charles leaned closer to his sister, as if to impart some grain of wisdom. “Also, I do believe that the number of homeless mutants out there has been drastically rising. The government might not be willing to do something about it, but that doesn’t mean we must sit idly by. We can let them in and give them a proper home. They need not be subjected to the danger and poverty that surrounds them on the streets. We can help them!”

Raven chewed on her lower lip, obviously worried. Charles didn’t have to look into her mind to know what she was thinking. She was worried about him… and his disability. His recovery thus far had been nothing short of remarkable, still, the most he could do was wiggle his toes and even that took effort. How in the world was he going to run an orphanage out of their childhood _mansion!_ Just wheeling around the palatial estate would be straining for him. Simply put, how was he going to manage it all when he could barely manage himself?

Raven’s gaze shifted nervously as she calculated where she would take the conversation. Charles wasn’t in need of coddling, but the last thing she wanted was to see disappointment flash across that earnest face. She couldn’t bear to see those bright sapphire eyes dim.

“Charles,” she finally squeaked out, “maybe this isn’t the right time? I mean, sure, an orphanage would be an amazing gesture for the homeless mutants out there, but you’re not really… you know. Don’t you think it’s a bit too early?”

“Nonsense, nothing’s too early for me. I’m already on my way to recovery and I’m confident that I’ll gain back control over my legs soon enough. I’ve seen inside the doctor’s mind, and he might not have mentioned it for fear of giving me too much hope, but results have shown that I’m currently on the right track and it won’t be long before I’m back on my feet again.” Charles meant every word of it. In his heart he _knew_ he would walk again. Just as he knew that he _had_ to do this, to use this second chance for something meaningful.

Despite his confident reassurances Raven still wasn’t convinced. Her eyes quickly darted away. Charles wheeled himself just a tad nearer and held her hands. “Raven… I know things aren’t really… well… they aren’t exactly how you’d envisioned them to be. But I promise you, I will recover. And then you won’t need to ever worry about me again. You’ll reclaim your life and start your own family.” Raven crinkled her nose at this statement, but Charles knew it would become important to her soon enough. “But Raven, right now, I need you by my side for this.”

Charles knew just how tiring it was for his sister, having to attend to his needs day in and day out, and yet, he just couldn’t let go of the orphanage; he needed it as much as he knew all the displaced children needed him.

“I—I know it is entirely selfish of me. All I am is a burden to you right now, but please… I, I really need this.”

Raven was on the verge of tears. Her brother’s pleading cut at her very soul. How could she say no after all he had done for her? “Oh, Charles, you know I’ve never thought of you as a burden.” She intertwined their fingers together. “I just… I’m afraid. I’m so afraid for you.” _That you’re getting your hopes up; that you won’t recover._

Charles bit down on the inside of his mouth and breathed a long slow moment. His reply came out measured and determined, “Even if I never walk again, I still intend to start this orphanage. I simply can’t see myself doing anything else for the rest of my life. And… I would really, really love for you to come with me. Together.”

Raven’s mind was turning. She was thinking, weighing the options.

“Raven, I need you. And I need to save them.” Charles breathed. “I need… to save myself.”

It was all that needed to be said, and Raven agreed.

The very next day they went down to register the orphanage’s name, sign the necessary documents, and secure a flight home to Westchester.

 

The first week back in their childhood home was spent cleaning up the dusty old space. Years of locking the place up tight had made sure the spiders, rats, and a host of other pests, had had a permanent place to reside in.

Charles called up a cleaning company and they sent a group to set the place up. Lord knows they couldn’t have done it on their own. Living quarters were now located in the west wing, classrooms in the east wing. A library in the main building. Labs in the basement. Kitchens in both west and east wing. All the other unoccupied rooms… he would figure out what to do with them.

While Raven dutifully managed the helpers and gave instructions, Charles went through the list of contacts he had and decided who he would hire. Raven said that it was far too early to be hiring anyone. They had no kids, and when they finally did, they would have to acquire the appropriate help based on _their_ needs. Charles just sulked disappointedly and conceded perhaps they _could_ wait a bit longer.

Since taking on this immense project, Raven had surprisingly become the more level-headed of the two. She often had to keep Charles’s enthusiasm and need to rush blindly forward in check. He was always rushing ahead now. It was a constant reminder of how desperate he was to reclaim his life.

* * *

Alex was the first child they took in. He was a mess.

Alex was 14 years old. Raven was the one who found him. She had been in town shopping for groceries when she walked past an alley and heard a scream. The shriek was cracked and peppered with fear. In hindsight the sound was clearly that of a frightened boy in the midst of puberty, but it made Raven’s skin prickle.

She flinched, shifting her appearance into a huge, muscular, brick wall of a man. She waited for a beat before she heard someone’s laughter. There was the sound of shattering glass and something cracked against a hard surface. Then came that same cry for help. It quickly turned into sobs of pain and was followed by a sudden flash of reddish pink light. And then after that, complete silence.

She waited, eyes flickering into the darkness. When she plucked up the courage to enter the alley, she found him huddled against the wall, crying, apologizing. “I didn’t mean to, I—I can’t control it—I…don’t turn me in, please, please don’t turn me in. I’m just looking for my brother!”

She wordlessly removed a can of tuna from the grocery bag along with a few slices of bread. He gobbled it down.

She took him home.

* * *

As it turned out, Alex had constant nightmares, was homesick, and missed his brother dearly. He had come from one of the government run orphanages before they kicked him out after his mutation developed. They kept his brother Scott though, for the older boy was “normal.” Scott fought for his brother. He took on the director and a few staff members before finally getting knocked unconscious by one of the larger employees, and Alex hadn’t seen him since.

On some nights, Charles would jolt awake with the sound of Alex’s crying ringing in his ears. A simple reach of his powers told him that Raven and Mrs. Turner (the one and only helper who lived with them) were fast asleep. This meant that he was the only person who could hear Alex’s sobbing, and the only one who could help.

He thought of going down the hall to check on the child, to soothe and comfort him, but then remembered he couldn’t move his legs. _Hah_ , he chuckled bitterly to himself. He didn’t think he would ever get used to that.

 ** _Alex, can you hear me? Are you alright?_** Charles projected.

No reply.

 ** _Alex?_** He tried again.

 ** _Mr. Xavier…_** The voice that came back sounded absolutely wrecked. **_I’m sorry…_**

**_Sorry? Whatever for?_ **

**_For waking you up… I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry_**.

 ** _Oh, you silly boy. It’s not your fault, and I’m not blaming you either._** He made sure to sound as pleasant as he could, sending out waves of soothing energy. **_Do you feel better now? If you need to talk, Raven and I will always be here for you. Mrs. Turner too._**

 ** _It’s okay, I just…I miss my brother is all_**.

Charles could feel the boy’s sadness roll over him. He wished he could do something more, even if it was as simple as getting out of bed to speak with Alex face to face; so he wouldn’t feel so alone.

**_I know you do. And I know he misses you too, and loves you dearly._ **

Silence.

 ** _I miss Scott… I really miss him. I… love him._** The words were choked out and tinged with embarrassment. It made Charles’s heart swell for the boy. Despite his problems, his mutation, he was like any other 14 year old: terrible at expressing his emotions.

 ** _Alex, I wish there was something I could say. I truly do._** He bit his lip. **_Just be strong, and brave. I know it’s what Scott would want for you. He’d want you to be happy, son. I don’t know where he is right now, but I’m sure you’ll see each other again soon. Just be strong._**

He didn’t know what else to say. He wanted to promise that he would search every last orphanage until he found Alex’s older brother, but he didn’t know if it was a promise he could keep, and he certainly didn’t want to lie to the boy. So what he did instead was send him genuine feelings of protectiveness and warmth, hoping Alex would be soothed.

He assumed it worked, for after a few minutes had passed, the sobbing had stopped and a rhythmic breathing pattern had planted itself in its place.

After awhile, he too fell asleep.

* * *

The beginning of his treatment at the centre was the worst. The doctors would run mild dosages of electricity down his spinal cord utilizing a device developed to treat chronic pain. The pain wasn’t what was unbearable, it was the unknown that terrified him. Every few seconds, they would send a charge down his body, and he would feel it, albeit just slightly. It was supposed to be a good sign, to actually feel anything at all, but that didn’t make the experience any less nerve-wracking. After all, he had felt nothing for over a year now and that first current of electricity had been shocking. Literally.

The physical therapy would start a few weeks later. He was nervous but confident he’d be able to handle it. But what if he couldn’t? Giving up meant he would be Raven’s burden to bear permanently and he knew that was not an option.

* * *

Alex had begun to settle in. He actually ate now, and had taken to helping Mrs. Turner in the kitchen when he finally tired of his solitude. They were small advances, but welcomed none the less.

Mrs. Turner was an older woman, nearing 60. She was plump and jolly and blessed with a wonderful temperament. She took care of Alex as if he were her own son. Raven had often wondered where Mrs. Turner’s family was. The fact that she never mentioned them seemed conspicuous. Raven never saw an appropriate time to bring it up, and she figured it wasn’t polite to ask anyway.

Charles’s gift ensured he didn’t need to ask. He knew she had a son once, a long time ago—he had died of an illness. What illness Charles didn’t know, and it seemed as though Mrs. Turner wasn’t sure either. What Charles did know, what he was sure of, was that when she thought no one was paying attention, there would be a glint of sadness in the woman’s eyes. In those moments her heavy sighs and grief-painted face made her look older than her years.

Mrs. Turner took care of the garden. She loved it.

And Charles allowed her to do as she pleased.

On sunny days, Alex found that his moods were unpredictable. With the sun hanging at its highest point, Alex would get the strongest urges to wreck everything around him, blasting his way through the mansion. Raven would try and soothe the child and Charles would attempt to communicate with him through telepathy even when Alex barricaded himself in the attic. Nothing seemed to work though; not bribery with food, comforting words, or soothing telepathic waves.

It was only when Mrs. Turner heaved herself up the stairs and sat right outside the attic door that Alex calmed. She would tell him about her garden and how she used to work as the housekeeper for the Tallis family. She talked about her son, how he was in love with the family’s oldest daughter. And then she requested Alex’s help in her garden. She would need his help planting some vegetables for she was far too old now for such chores. She did have a bad back.

Charles was sure she did. But he knew by the shine in her eyes that she needed Alex for company just as much as she needed him for the hard labor.

She was always able to get Alex to unlock the door, and she even gained a willing helper. Although he had no real interest in gardening, digging in the soil proved to be a good release for the boy. After a hard day’s work, he would feel calmer, much more relaxed.

His nightmares soon stopped.

* * *

“I can hear you. I can hear your thoughts.” Charles stilled in his wheelchair. “Don’t be alarmed. I know you’re scared, but you have no reason to be. You’re among friends.”

Charles wasn’t sure exactly where he should be directing his words. The library was pitch black, and he could feel the young boy’s presence in the room, but he couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was. The boy was so quiet that Charles couldn’t even hear his breathing. Although the child hadn’t exactly been quiet when he climbed through the window and crashed face first onto the floor. It woke Charles with a fright from where he had passed out on his desk.

Charles whispered, “There’s nothing to be afraid of. No one is going to hurt you. You’re safe here. You’re safe.”

He could sense the boy was calculating his moves, as though ready to lunge at him if he found himself in danger. So Charles could do nothing but sit and wait.

“Please believe you have nothing to fear,” he almost pleaded this time. He didn’t want to plunge into the boy’s mind for fear of frightening him further, but he was almost out of options.

Then, slowly, cautiously, the boy stepped out from the darkness, hands clutched around his body, holding himself.

He was a tall, lanky child, probably around Alex’s age, maybe older. He had shining blue eyes, just like Charles’s own. They reflected the luminous moonlight as he stepped out from the shadows. He was shaking, wet from the earlier rainstorm.

As the boy stepped out further, Charles’s eyes trailed down his body and his gaze landed squarely on his feet.

Oh.

“So that’s how you managed the climb up here,” he stated calmly, with a hint of amusement sliding into his voice.

The boy flinched.

Charles waited for a beat, not daring to move nearer. Carefully, sternly, he said, “You’re amongst your own kind here.”

He saw the look of confusion flitting across the child’s face. Charles bit back his smile.

**_I’m a mutant too. Hello, my name is Charles Xavier. It’s a pleasure to meet you._ **

The boy’s eyes widened. And then he smiled back.

“I’m Hank. N-nice to meet you.”

* * *

“Seriously? Would you buzz off? Raven, tell him to knock it off!” Alex stormed into the kitchen.

“Tell who to knock what off?” Raven asked through a mouthful of muffin. “Hey, Hank, how you feeling today?”

“Much better, thank you!” Hank replied, following after Alex.

Hank was two years younger than Alex, which made him a ripe old 12. Despite that, he was extraordinarily mature for his age, incredibly smart, and always eager to learn new things. He had been rambling on to Alex about a new book he found in the library, something about dinosaurs. You’d think that boys so close in age would be interested in similar things, like dinosaurs, but Alex just wasn’t. It was also possible he just couldn’t stand the way Hank had taken to following him around. Hank would trail behind Alex with his big round glasses gleaming in the sunlight, yammering on like he had just been reunited with his long lost brother.

“Hello, boys. Do I sense some tension?” Charles asked.

“They’re fighting I think,” Raven spat out through her still full mouth.

“We ain’t fighting. Hank just won’t shut up about that stupid dinosaur book he found and it’s so fucking irritating.”

“Language, Alex.”

“Sorry, Mr. Xavier.”

“It’s alright, but please be mindful of it in the future.” He finished up his tea with an audible gulp. “I believe Hank is simply excited and wants to share with you what he’s learned. There’s nothing wrong with a little enthusiasm”

“Nothing wrong sure, but its hella irritating.” Alex reached for one of the muffins on the table, now clearly distracted by the promise of food. “Oh this is good, really good,” Alex gushed with a stuffed mouth.

“Thanks, and you’re welcome,” Raven said with a wink. “Mrs. Turner and I baked them this morning. Hank would you like one?” Raven smiled, holding out a muffin to the younger child.

“Yes please! Thank you, Miss Raven.” Hank beamed. Charles could feel the happiness pouring out into the room, all of it coming from the child and directed at Raven. His sister, however, was oblivious to it all.

“Miss Raven, I have something for you.” Hank took out a paper-thin dried flower that had been trapped between the pages of his book. “I picked a flower from the garden! It’s a buttercup. I chose it because it looks like your hair color, yellow!” He was grinning from ear to ear.

Raven gladly accepted the flower. “Why, thank you, Hank. That’s very nice of you. Although technically, I’m a blonde, not yellow haired. Still, same difference. Thank you, hon.” She placed a kiss amongst the child’s hair.

Hank was quickly becoming Raven’s favorite, Charles could tell.

 ** _Show off._** Alex left it unsaid, but Charles could read it loud and clear.

 ** _Alex._** Charles sent him a disapproving look.

Alex sulked unhappily, “Whatever, I’m leaving.”

Hank, who was busy with his muffin, looked up in a hurry. “W-wait for me!” and then shot off like a rocket to catch up with the boy.

Distantly, Charles heard Alex saying, “Get lost bozo.” He shook his head.

“Well, they’re certainly getting along well, aren’t they?” Raven said. She had begun picking apart another muffin and contentedly munched away. A few crumbs flew out of her mouth. They dropped onto the table. “I’ll clean that up.”

Charles laughed, “I never had a doubt.” He sighed. “I do hope they’ll get along soon enough. Hank treats Alex like an older brother, and well, Alex himself is in need of someone to fill that role. I’m not quite sure how things are going to work out.”

“Hm. Well I’m not worried. These kinds of things sort themselves out.” Raven shrugged. “Plus, they have you now.”

* * *

The next child to arrive was Sean.

He was a sprightly ginger with the ability to produce sonic screams. He was of the same age as Alex and the boys found they had a lot of common ground. It also meant that sometimes they would purposely or accidentally leave Hank out. It wasn’t something that Charles would classify as a problem though, because Hank soon found he enjoyed the time alone. He began reading Charles’s genetics notes and Charles had to admit that it was really quite bloody amazing that the boy could understand most of it. He occasionally asked questions although it wasn’t often.

Sean shared a room with Alex, which only served to strengthen their bond. Alex didn’t mind it, not one bit, except he began to notice Sean had an odd quirk or two.

One day, in the middle of a conversation, Sean had stopped talking entirely and started fidgeting in his seat.

“Dude, are you okay?” Alex inquired when he realized Sean wasn’t paying attention. “Helloooo, Sean, you okay there?”

Sean snapped his head up. He cocked it to one side, “Who the hell are you talking to?”

“I’m talking to you! Who else would I be talking to? Seriously, were you even listening?”

“I—no I wasn’t.”

“Whatever.” Alex was unfazed. “Anyway, Mrs. Turner got me some chocolates from town today. There are those cookies and cream ones you like. Want one?” Alex offered.

“I don’t like chocolates. Never liked them. Hate them in fact. Why would I want to eat any of that stuff, keep it.” Sean said it genuinely, but the words were tinged with an air of brusque dismissal.

Alex was slightly taken aback, and very much confused, but what was the point of arguing over whether someone liked chocolate. “Whatever. More for me.”

It wasn’t the first or the last time an incident like that would occur.  Charles had finally hired a tutor for the children. The woman was a long time friend of his, Emma Frost. When she requested that the boys write their names down on their papers, Sean had written his name “Shaun.”

Alex burst out laughing. “Haha! Holy hell, you can’t even spell your name right!”

“Alex, that’s not nice.” Emma said disapprovingly.

“Geez, you sound just like Mr. Xavier. You guys needs to calm down. I was just kidding. Sean knows I’m kidding.” Charles had to bite back the retort threatening to escape his lips. He had to keep quiet so as not to give away his presence as he peeked through the crack between door and its hinge.

“I will take the comparison as a complement” Emma said, her expression cool. Alex emitted a little chuckle.

She turned towards Sean, her eyebrows now knitted together in concern. “Sweetheart, that’s not how you write your name. Here, let me show you.” And she wrote down “Sean” on the paper instead.

Sean frowned in irritation. “That’s not how you spell my name. I spell it S-H-A-U-N. Like Shaun, from _Shaun of the Dead_.”

“No, you idiot, you’re S-E-A-N, not S-H-A-U-N. Sheesh, you’ve been hanging out with Hank way too much. Hah!”

Sean seethed, his pale, freckled face turning beet red before facing to stomp out of the room. Charles barely managed to conceal himself from Sean but did so just in time.

* * *

The fourth time the electrical current ran through him, Charles gritted his teeth and blinked back the tears. The pain had become immense, but with help from the staff members, he was now able to take a few steps forward. Things were improving with every treatment. Sometimes, the charge was so high his vision would blur and for a moment he felt concussed. And with the increased voltage running through his limbs, the length of these “blackouts” increased proportionately. He would find it hard to even breathe and even harder to talk, most frightening of all, he would lose control over his mind.

Total darkness.

Blank.

Nothing.

It's never long-term and the treatments were clearly working, so Charles pushed his concerns down and focused on the end goal.

* * *

Sean’s odd behavior wanes when Angel arrives. He stopped spelling his name “Shaun” and returned to writing “Sean” instead. Perhaps it was due to the sudden existence of the first female child in their growing home, or perhaps it was the desire to quiet Miss Frost. The two boys swooned over Angel and showered her with attention. The other newest addition, Darwin, sometimes played along.

Hank still gave flowers to Raven.

Angel, much like Alex, had come from the streets. Mrs. Turner had found her stealing food and subsequently being chased from a store. She asked the girl if she had a family, if she was alone.

All Angel had been able to say was, “They asked me to do it. I didn’t want to but they don’t stop. They, they’re speaking again. And again… and again!”

There was no way Mrs. Turner could leave the confused child. It was also clear by the way she had escaped her pursuers that Angel was a mutant with the ability to fly. She had wings. This ensured that the police would be no help. The government no longer wanted anything to do with mutants. So Mrs. Turner brought her back to the mansion, gave her food, washed her up and finally tucked her into bed.

“I don’t want to… I don’t want to anymore.” Angel kept muttering to herself.

She seemed so lost and afraid; Mrs. Turner could almost feel her heart breaking in her chest.

 

Angel was fidgety during breakfast the day after her arrival. The boys stared at her in fascination and she squirmed under their intense gaze. Mrs. Turner whipped up one dish after the other, ever so eager to feed her little lovelies.

Charles could barely contain his laughter after peeking into the woman’s mind. Apparently she decided that they were all her kitty cats, every single one of them. And she made it her duty to coddle them and fatten them up.

“Darwin says you got picked up in a dumpster. Is that true?” Alex asked without hesitation.

“Alex!” Darwin jabbed Alex sharply with his elbow and Angel turned away in embarrassment.

“Nah, she wasn’t picked out of a dumpster. Mrs. Turner saw her getting chased outta a store for stealing,” Sean said happily.

Angel was mortified, her mouth opening and closing helplessly, like a fish out of water. She was floundering and didn’t know what to do.

“Boys, that’s very rude of you all.” **_Clearly Angel is uncomfortable with being questioned like this. Give her some time. Meanwhile, Alex, would it kill you to stop ogling her like that?_** He sent it to the boys, excluding Hank. Hank was reading another book he obtained from the library. He didn’t seem the least bit interested in Angel.

“Alright, Miss Frost will be here soon for lessons, so it would behoove you to finish up your breakfast and be off.”

They quickly gobbled down their food and left.

Angel was still playing with her scrambled eggs though. She seemed uneasy.

Charles swallowed a mouthful of toast. He said in a most casual tone, “The boys are very excited to have a female presence in the house. True they’re a rowdy bunch, but don’t fret, they’re the loveliest group you’ll ever meet. Typically everyone plays nice so you have nothing to worry about.”

Angel didn’t look up to meet Charles’s gaze. Her focus remained on her hands which were gingerly resting in her lap. “They… they don’t think so though.”

Charles blinked.

“Sorry, when you say ‘they,’ who do you mean exactly?” He could always just take a peek inside her mind, but he was trying to build something here. These children deserved respect and privacy and Charles was willing to forgo the use of his abilities in order to gain their trust.

“They,” was all she said in reply.

Charles turned to engage Mrs. Turner and perhaps enlist her aid, but she was washing dishes and oblivious to the ongoing conversation.

“I see.” Charles said before dipping into her mind just a bit. He justified it because he found the girl’s behavior so worrisome. The moment he did though, he flinched and pulled out entirely. Whilst inside, all he could sense was chaos. There was a high pitched buzzing sound surrounded by multiple voices. It was like someone was trying to communicate with her, screaming out instructions.

**_Run away. Run away now. You need to be safe, run away from this house. They’re your enemies. They’re going to kill you. You need to run._ **

They shouted at her over and over again. Charles had to wonder who or what could be causing this. Was it the work of a mutant? Another telepath? Impossible… But he couldn’t deny what he had experienced. Why would someone be attempting to communicate with this frightened, withdrawn girl?

Charles took a deep breath and allowed himself a moment to settle his pounding heart.

“Sir, can I go?” Angel asked meekly.

“Yes, yes you can.”

Charles kept a close eye on her for the rest of the day, and for the next few weeks too. He didn’t dare venture back into her already overcrowded mind.

* * *

While he hadn’t managed to figure out what had caused the chaos in Angel’s head, it was obvious she was settling in. The boys adored her and sought out her company like moths to a flame and she slowly opened up to them, began smiling more. Her obvious improvements allowed Charles to calm his concerns.

For the most part, things were perfect. The children got on like old chums, making mischief like a normal group of adolescents. Once, Sean had managed to start a water balloon fight and predictably their powers got involved. Mrs. Turner’s garden ended up a trampled, uprooted hole in the middle of the property. 

Charles, initially rather cross, made them apologize to Mrs. Turner, who didn’t seem all too concerned. They dutifully offered their sorrys with bowed heads. Then with devious grins slowly spreading across their faces, they each revealed a concealed water balloon and threw them at Charles and Raven. They ran away giggling like mad rascals.

Charles couldn’t muster up the fury to be angry at them. They finally seemed to be enjoying themselves. They were simply being the kids they were supposed to be, having fun and getting the second chance at life that Charles so desperately wanted for them.

Raven then decided to bring the game up a notch and proceeded to shape shift into every single one of them, throwing water balloons at both teams, successfully pissing off Alex and Sean who ended up wrestling on the grass in the confusion.

The night ended with everyone mopping up the mud tracks that covered the entire first floor.

* * *

A rather imposing man turned up on the mansion’s doorstep a full year after they had received their latest charges, Jean and Bobby.

It was Bobby that answered the door. “Who are you?” he inquired rather territorially.

“My name is Erik Lehnsherr. I’ve been sent by the hospital. I was hired a few months back and only now—hey, hey! What the hell are you doing?”

The fair-haired boy had his hand outstretched and was effectively trapping Erik’s legs in a block of ice. “Mr. Xavier never said anything about you and I’m not supposed to let in strangers,” he continued freezing the man from toe to torso.

“Look here, I’ve been sent to help alright? Could you—hey! Call Charles Xavier, I want to speak to Charles Xavier!” Erik reached his hand out to try and grab at the child. Bobby swiftly moved one step back, barely dodging the man’s impressively far reach.

Erik quickly calmed, his cloudy sea green eyes focusing on the metal umbrella stand that sat in the foyer. Without lifting a finger he shaped it into something akin to an ice pick, quickly using it to attack his confinements.

The sound of Erik angrily sculpting the ice caught Sean’s attention.

“Bobby, who’s that?” the ginger haired boy came into view. “Who the hell are you?”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Erik spat out, his slight German accent becoming more pronounced the angrier he got. “My name is Erik Lehnsherr, I was sent here by the hospital. I’m meant to be in charge of your mental and physical health. Now will you please let me speak to the person in charge? This is simply ridiculous, I’m going to lose my toes,” Erik said through gritted teeth.

“Oh. Yeah, sure no problem,” Sean replied casually as though this was the first time the stranger had made the request.

Erik waited for the boy to move, to do something, anything! Both children just stood there, looking at him dumbly. Erik darted his eyes back and forth between the teenager and the young child.

“Well, are you going to call him or what?” Erik growled.

Sean rolled his eyes and Erik rolled _his_ eyes, no doubt exasperated. Seriously, what the hell was wrong with these people? How could they just let him stand stuck in the ice? _Shit, I can’t feel my toes_ , Erik thought franticly. He mumbled to himself and groaned into his hands. He knew he shouldn’t have taken the job. Bloody knew it.

A full, agonizing, minute later a man with blue eyes so bright they looked almost inhuman wheeled himself through the front door. The man smiled a boyish grin. When Erik made eye contact with him, his jaw slackened and his heart clenched.

_Fuck._

* * *

As it turned out, Erik was a great help around the mansion. He diligently monitored the children’s health. Every day, much like Mrs. Turner, he would make sure everyone was eating enough, and properly. He had also begun the children on a _regimen_ of vitamins and supplements. Erik was concerned that since many of them came from extreme conditions that they missed years of proper nutrition. Although Erik knew damage done during their formative years was impossible to undo, he did all he could to make sure they were well cared for now. Despite their rocky start, he had taken a shine to his new patients. 

In all honesty, Erik was a bit of a fitness nut, which wasn’t a bad thing. It was just foreign to Charles who, even before the accident, had considered a walk across campus to be his daily workout.

The boys quite liked Erik. They liked that he played soccer with them and Saturdays quickly became soccer day. Occasionally the girls would join in, especially when Charles allowed “soccer day” to become “soccer with powers day.” He figured with his supervision there was no harm in letting them become more comfortable with their abilities. That was one of the reasons they were here, wasn’t it? To be safe among others who understood?

Unexpectedly, or rather quite expectedly, Hank was a fantastic soccer player. The only problem was his mutation couldn’t be turned off. Every match was a “with powers” match for Hank. The others whined and complained about it. Charles was quick to explain that not being able to hide his mutation was also an obstacle for Hank. They begrudgingly let the point drop. He sensed Raven could relate all too well.

The kids adopted a “if you can’t beat em, join em” attitude and Saturday mornings became days where they would fight over who got to be on Hank’s team.

Hank was obviously, and understandably, over the moon.

When they did end up squabbling, Erik did nothing but let them go at it. Charles often worried that if not monitored they would destroy a part of the mansion, but Erik simply pressed a reassuring hand to Charles’s shoulder. “They’re not just mutants, they’re children, and they need to learn to handle these sorts of things on their own.” Erik’s warm smile was all the convincing Charles needed.

Charles couldn’t help but grin back at the lanky German hovering above him, relishing in that small touch. It was rather pathetic, really.

* * *

When Erik first arrived he and Charles hit it off immediately. Neither man had any interest in an employer/employee relationship, so they simply became fast friends. Charles enjoyed his presence around the mansion and he could only assume Erik felt the same. The assignment was never for a full time caregiver, but that’s what Erik became. He not only took care of the children’s physical and emotional needs, he helped them hone their powers.

As the time quickly passed, Charles began to realize that his feelings for Erik were growing into something beyond that of simple friendship. He liked the way Erik would stretch his body after a long day’s work with the kids. He liked the fact that Erik was sometimes a tad slow getting the punch lines of jokes and would burst out laughing even after they had gone on to another topic. He liked Erik’s smile, Erik’s mesmerizing and intense eyes. He liked how Erik would ruffle the children’s hair during rare showings of affection. He also liked the way he would card those hands of his through his own dark locks. He liked how Erik was able to remain both stern and friendly at the same time.

He especially liked the way his heart thumped erratically in his chest whenever Erik turned back to look at him.

He liked it all. Loved it in fact. Loved it so much he sometimes found himself with an overwhelming desire to let his feelings be known. He wanted to go to Erik, god he wanted to so badly. _Tell him you love him! This is your second chance! Come on, Charles!_

But of course, he couldn’t. He didn’t dare to. What if Erik walked away right then and there? What if he left and never returned?

The children would miss him desperately. Mrs. Turner would miss him too. But who was he kidding, he would be lost without him. He would miss Erik so bloody much.

To make matters worse, Charles was sure Erik was pulling at his heartstrings on purpose. The way he looked at him sometimes was simply maddening. Erik’s lips would curl into a slightly mischievous smile and his eyes would burn into Charles’s. The intensity of those moments were delicious.

One Saturday when the children were out in the field playing soccer, Charles had gone to the library to read instead. Some days, especially when they were outdoors, his wheelchair still made him feel useless. The treatments and therapies were going well—there was much progress—but it was without a doubt a slow process.

 He had been reading over the handwritten notes Hank was currently plowing through. Hank was ridiculously fast and intuitive when it came to the studying of Charles’s old lectures. The teenager was going through notes he used for university level classes. Alex was still skeptical about it. More than once he had questioned Hank, calling him a liar and a faker for pretending to understand Charles’s writings. Charles himself had never doubted Hank’s integrity. His desire to learn was evident and he gained nothing by putting on a show. Sometimes Charles thought of how easy raising teenagers would be if he could sneak a peek into their heads. But he couldn’t seriously imagine betraying them like that.

While Charles busied himself organizing the scattered papers, he watched the children play out on the field. They raced back and forth under the scorching blaze of the sun that hung high above their heads. They were screaming, shouting, laughing. They were having fun. The sight warmed him from the inside out.

He turned back to his desk and thought about Erik. He often found himself thinking about Erik; a little bit more than he wanted to admit actually. He couldn’t help it though, Erik was gentle and open with him. Disciplined, kind, stern, controlled, gentle; Erik was so many things all at once. How he managed it, one really had to wonder.

Charles recalled how the children had been scared of him at first. It was to be expected. Trust didn’t come easily for these kids and Erik was a complete stranger. But now look at them all, running around without a care in the world

After morning jogs with the kids, Erik would make his way into the kitchen, downing an entire bottle of mineral water in huge, thick gulps. Charles had to turn his heated gaze away from that long lean neck; the metal bender’s Adam’s apple bobbing every time he swallowed. He didn’t need to look to know the man was practically smirking at him.

Charles had been looking out the library window, lost in the sight of the golden sun slipping below the horizon. He was too lost in his own world for he hadn’t picked up the sudden presence of Erik’s mind in the room; not until the man was by his side.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Erik said, not even looking at Charles. “You’ll be happy to hear how effortlessly the children seem to be coming into their own. They’re gradually getting their powers under control.”

Charles smiled serenely, “That is indeed wonderful news.” He adjusted his gaze to peer out the window once more.

Erik also kept his eyes trained on the world beyond the window; standing by Charles’s side but not saying a word. Charles stayed silent too. They remained quiet for a moment and in that short amount of time, Charles became keenly aware of the increasingly painful thump of his heart hammering against his chest. His desire was clawing at him, as though desperate to break free.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Erik’s lithe form grabbing a chair and placing it down beside him. Close, but not close enough.

Charles’s body stilled, his muscles taut and tense. Their arms were mere centimeters from brushing together, and he wanted desperately to close that distance, to shift just a little, and ‘accidentally’ bump their forearms together. God, he was pathetic.

Erik was the first to break the silence.

“Charles, how’ve you been feeling lately?” His smooth voice was heavy with genuine curiosity.

“Infinitely better.”

“And you’re recovering at the same swift pace?” His eyes twinkled and Charles’s could barely keep from melting into a puddle at the man’s feet.

“Yes actually.” He didn’t really want to talk about such matters with Erik. Things were going well, he just didn’t want to be reminded of his affliction in the man’s presence. Erik made him feel normal again, whole. But he seemed so genuinely interested that Charles pushed on. “Some days I’m able to walk a full five meters. Of course, it does get tiring after awhile, but to be able to stand on my own two legs again, to be able to feel anything at all, it’s really… it’s nice. I feel better now… really.” Charles forced a small smiled. He knew it must’ve looked tired and pained.

As expected, Erik made no attempt to close the distance between them. He hadn’t reached out to touch him or comfort him in any way at all. Charles craved the reassuring touch of the other man. He ached to feel Erik’s strong hand lay reassuringly upon his skin. He just wanted some sign that his own feelings weren’t one sided, and that they were reciprocated.

But Erik did nothing.

“You know, Raven told me Hank finally came clean the other day. She was packing up the storeroom when Hank came in with a bouquet of hand picked flowers from the garden. He asked her out.”

Charles raised one brow, “And then?”

“She laughed.”

“Oh.”

“I suppose she thought it was a joke or something. When she told me she just laughed it off. She probably figures it’s a silly teenage crush, and that’s most likely what it is. She stands up for him when no one else does. I think he’s just confused. I think he _thinks_ he likes her.”

“It’s also just as likely that he’s truly interested in her.” _Maybe he even loves her._

“She is the only one who’s ever paid him proper attention. Poor boy’s got quite the fixation. It’s just some old fashion puppy love. It’s quite sad, really.”

Charles felt a bit of bile climb up the back of his throat. He turned away slightly.

“Why is it sad?” Charles asked, his jaw clenching.

“I don’t think she’ll ever love him back. At least not the way he loves her. I don’t think she can.”

Charles couldn’t breathe. There was a lump in his throat the size of a baseball and his mind had involuntarily gone blank except for the desperate phrases that would not stop repeating: _I love you. Will you love me? Will you love me even if Raven won’t love Hank? Will you love me, please?_

“It will all work out though. Hank is young and will undoubtedly bounce back after a few days of crying. That’s the glory of youth,” Erik laughed dismissively.

Charles sat in his wheelchair. He wanted to get out of the library, to flee like a coward. There was no dignified way to accomplish this so he slumped in the chair, suddenly feeling boneless and weak.

The sun had completed its descent and the room was almost totally dark. Wind was howling outside and it softly rattled the windows.

“Are you cold? You look pale.” Erik reached out and clasped his large hands around Charles’s more delicate digits. Charles gasped and Erik lightly rubbed their palms together in an attempt to warm him.  “Wait here for a bit, I’ll be right back.”

 _Where are you going?_ Charles couldn’t find the courage to open his mouth.

When Erik returned he wrapped a blanket around Charles’s body, tucking him in until he was bundled in a nest of warmth.

“You’ve fallen asleep. Silly Charles.” Erik whispered softly. It sounded… guilty? Why guilty? And he wasn’t asleep—no he was very much awake. Eyes wide, staring at the taller male looming over him. He could see him clearly so Erik had to be able to see that he was awake too. Why then had the man said that he had fallen asleep?

Charles opened his mouth to correct Erik but found that he could no longer speak. It wasn’t out of fear, or lack of courage, he simply couldn’t form words. Something was wrong, very wrong.

Erik sat down in his own chair again. He was frowning. The frown contorted his face and made him look older and weary; qualities that did not do justice to his gorgeous facial features. Now his strong cheekbones just gave him a gaunt appearance. Erik sighed.

 ** _What’s wrong?_** He reached out with his mind. **_You can tell me._**

He didn’t know if the other man heard, for Erik did not turn in the slightest. But he did begin to speak, “Charles, I…”

He stopped.

Charles waited.

Erik began again, “I don’t know how to say this. I’m not sure how exactly to tell you and–god I feel like such a coward,” he laughed bitterly to himself. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I truly am. I cannot even begin to express how fucking guilty I feel. I’m a coward, a complete and utter coward and I will never be able to…”

**_Erik. I—I don’t understand._ **

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness and I wouldn’t expect you to give it to me even if I was. I just need you to tell me it’s alright, Charles. I need you to let me know everything is going to be okay.” Erik clasped both of his hands around Charles’s left.

 ** _Everything is going to be alright. Erik, what are you trying to tell me?_** It might be foolish, but Charles couldn’t help but think this tremendously important confession involved Erik’s feelings for him. How childish to even entertain the thought. But if not that, then what?

Erik’s hot breath ghosted over his cold fingers, “I’m sorry… I really am. And I will take this with me to the grave.” He lay one kiss on Charles’s hand “Good night, Charles, I’ll see you in the morning.”

**_It’s alright, you can tell me when you decide it’s the right time; when you’ve gathered your courage. Good night Erik, I love you._**

* * *

Moira was the first non-mutant to take up residence in the mansion, and Sean adored her. From the moment she stepped into the house with her tattered skirt and dirty shoes, Sean was head over heels in love.

Although he wasn’t exactly suave in his advances towards the petite brunette.

Whenever she walked by, he would stare, offer a small smile, and then scurry off in the opposite direction with a bright red blush coloring his cheeks. It was incredibly funny, even Erik thought so. Whenever Moira was nearby the number of times Sean walked into walls and doors increased exponentially. As did the number of broken objects that slipped out of Sean’s hands.

Moira didn’t seem to mind the attention although she wasn’t exactly reveling in it either. She busied herself and waited patiently for the day she would be adopted. Or, more realistically as she was not that far off from 18, the day she would be on her own. Her hopes remained high though. No matter her age she knew she would always desperately desire a family of her own.

As expected, Moira was not adopted, and on her 18th birthday she locked herself in her room and cried herself to sleep.

Sean stood outside her door offering words of comfort.

She picked up books from the nearby shelf and flung them at the door. Still, Sean remained unfazed and stayed outside her room throughout the night.

The next morning, as she swung open her door, Sean fell backwards, hitting his head on the floor. He groaned and made a show of rubbing the back of his head.

“Get up, it’s time for breakfast,” she offered without the hint of emotion.

He followed her down the stairs towards the kitchen.

When she thought he wasn’t in earshot she whispered, barely audible, “Thank you.”

He smiled.

* * *

Sean and Moira moved out years later after they had both turned 24. Charles never made his charges feel as though they had to leave the mansion. They were his family and they had homes under that roof as long as they wanted or needed it. Sean and Moira no longer needed it. They were the first two to leave, and the first two to marry. To each other no less.

The other children, now grown, had taken to caring for the new arrivals that came in. Alex became third in charge, right after Raven and Erik who were both second in charge. Hank took on the role of teacher and tutor, and Angel just well, did whatever she wanted, really. Charles didn’t really care as long as she was happy. And the children loved her, so her presence was more than welcome.

Charles’s recovery, although long and arduous, was nearly at an end.  On good days, he barely needed his wheelchair. He found himself using it to avoid overexertion. Even then Raven often had to force him into it. He was simply addicted to standing on his own two feet.

Charles often thought back to Sean and Moira’s wedding. It truly seemed like the most glorious culmination of his journey. It had been held on the property and was a small, intimate ceremony.

Alex was Sean’s best man and Angel was Moira’s maid of honor.

Charles had Raven and Erik by his sides and was all smiles when Sean and Moira had said, “I do.” He squeezed their hands tenderly. They squeezed back.

When the couple embraced and shared their first kiss as man and wife Charles cried. Erik laughed, his throaty chuckle filled with joy. Like her brother, Raven began to bawl her eyes out. It was indeed a rather funny scene.

It was at night that Charles replayed the scene. Lying in bed he couldn’t stop smiling. After his accident he had felt his life slipping away from him, further and further down into a hole he feared he’d never escape. But he had climbed out from the bottom of that pit and was now living life to its fullest. It was amazing.

Charles relaxed his body into the cool, soft sheets, his grin never faltering. Erik hadn’t confessed his love, but neither had he. There was something unspoken between them and one thing Charles had come to learn was the simple joy of just living in the moment. He knew they would have their time, if it was meant to be. One day, he hoped, he and Erik would embrace as they should have years ago. Charles could picture it perfectly. Their bodies pressed together chastely, Erik’s strong arms tightly around his smaller frame. Charles’s hand lightly stroking the taller man’s back. No chair. There was no chair. Erik and Charles would face each other as years of unspoken feelings were washed away with a simple pressing together of bodies.

He tugged the blanket up to his chin, and quietly, he fell into sleep.

That night he had the strangest dream. It came in a series of images and scenes. Little flashes of information here and there, distorted: Alex’s extreme mood swings coming back, his temper exploding, plasma blasting through the walls of the mansion. The voices in Angel’s head returning once more, telling her to “kill them all,” ordering her to “jump from the highest floor.” And then a piece of paper. He dreamt that Sean had signed his marriage certificate “Shaun.”

Odd.

How very odd.

 

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 2**

Raven startled awake to the blaring sound of her alarm. It was 8:00 in the morning and it was a Sunday, or as it had come to be known, “visiting day.”

Lazily rubbing at her eyes, she dragged herself out of bed and headed for the bathroom, feeling every bit groggy and sluggish; her limbs hanging heavily at her side. She barely managed to open her eyes when she tripped over some dickhead’s clothing precariously discarded on the floor. Giving it a closer look, it was a pair of pants— _specifically_ a pair of men’s pants.

 _God damn it, Sally and all the men she brings back,_ she thought, irritated.

When she finally made it to the bathroom, she stared at her own reflection in the mirror. Who was that girl? Who was that hollow cheeked, gaunt looking woman staring back at her? Her once lush blonde hair was now limp and thinned, her eye bags hatefully visible. Sighing, she quickly showered and then wrapped a towel around her body, before disappearing back into her own bedroom; but not before bitterly kicking her flat mate’s lover’s clothing.

On Sundays, Raven would take the train to the station nearest the hospital. Then, she would take a bus for the remainder of the journey—there would be no fancy cab rides, her budget was much too tight this month. This Sunday was no different from past ones, except maybe she was just a little bit more tired, and felt just a tad more hopeless about the entire situation. Her rent was due in one week and she didn’t think she’d have the cash to pay it on time. Let’s also not forget, she thought feebly, about the ever-decreasing savings account being drained by Charles’s stay at the hospital. Or the fact that she had yet to find another job since quitting the previous one five days ago.

God damn it, things were really looking pretty fucking bleak.

It was 2:00 in the afternoon when she arrived at the hospital; Charles would have just received his bath from one of the nurses… what was her name again? Raven wracked her brain for a moment, but even when the woman’s face did come to her, she couldn’t quite remember her name. Oh well, not that it really mattered anyway.

The building felt as old and ancient as ever. The place hadn’t actually been built as a hospital. It was a family mansion that belonged to some rich fella whose name she couldn’t recall—that also wasn’t important; she had never really been good with names anyway. The family had long since left the place and another rich guy had bought it and converted it into a hospital. She would very much like to thank the kind soul for adjusting their rates in consideration of Charles’s situation, but she was so very tired and even more frustrated. The easier option was to just hate him.

Exiting from the lift, she crossed the hallway and stopped outside room 204. Swinging the door open, she was greeted by the sight of a nurse busy buttoning up Charles’s shirt.

It was when the nurse had finished dressing Charles in clean clothes that she noticed Raven’s presence.

“Oh, hello! I’m the new nurse, I’ll be in charge of taking care of your brother. Raven, isn’t it? My name is Jolie Green. Nice to meet you.” Nurse Jolie stretched out her hand and Raven took it.

“Hi, nice to meet you too,” Raven smiled back.

Raven didn’t ask any of her usual questions which included: to what extent will you be in charge of my brother? How long will you be around? How long have you been in taking care of him?

She didn’t need to ask because she knew the answers.

She would be in charge of him 24/7. She would probably be around for another four months before eventually realizing that this wasn’t her dream job and she gained nothing by sticking around. She had probably been around for a week, give or take.

How did Raven know the answer to that last question? She hadn’t been able to make it to the hospital last Sunday, and the week before that the nurse had still been that other woman whose name she still didn’t remember. Put two and two together, well, it’s probably about one week or so.

The nurse stepped back to allow Raven to greet her brother.

“Hey Charles, how’ve you been?” she asked, not really expecting an answer.

Charles, with his body limp and slumped over in the wheelchair, said nothing as he dazedly watched the courtyard through the open window with half lidded eyes.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come and visit last week, something came up and I had to mind the store.” She knelt down beside him, tucking her skirt beneath her. “I hope you’re not mad at me.”

When Charles still kept his silence, Raven reached into her bag and pulled out a deep blue scarf, she held it in front of him. “Do you remember this scarf? Do you remember how you used to adore it so much that you would wear it out every chance you got?” She laughed, “I really have no idea how it ended up in my apartment, but I found it last night so I thought I’d maybe bring it along today. I thought you’d like that.”

Charles blinked, turning his face towards the sky to watch a pair of birds gliding past. Raven remained smiling, consciously trying to ignore the fact that the new nurse was not far behind them, watching, as she effort-fully conducted their one sided conversation.

Raven took the scarf and placed it between Charles’s pale hands, rubbing them together, as though the motion would melt whatever barrier Charles was putting up, and then that warm, bubbly man she once knew could return to her again.

“Sally brought a man home again,” she said casually. “I’ve told her countless times that she’s not allowed to bring guys home without at least giving me a heads up or something. Seriously, it’s just rude you know,” she laughed, almost breathlessly. If the nurse was still watching, she would have noticed Raven’s pained expression by now.

Glancing once more at Charles, she saw that his eyes were dull and lifeless, his lips chapped, his fingernails badly chewed up. She sighed. Fumbling through her bag, she took out her lip balm and easily smoothed it over his lips. Charles numbly let her do as she pleased.

“Let’s go and find the others, shall we?” Raven said.

Together with the new nurse in tow, she wheeled Charles out of the room.

 * * *

The rest of the patients were in the media room taking part in “recreational therapy.” Basically, that meant they would gather around a projector screen and watch whatever movie the staff chose to show. Said movies were normally kid friendly, but even then the techs would closely monitor everyone’s behavior just in case something triggered any latent violent tendencies within the patients. This was particularly a concern with Alex, who had once broken down in the middle of watching _Finding Nemo_. Raven hadn’t been there that day, but she was told the amount of broken furniture to unbroken furniture was at a 5:1 ratio, which was pretty extreme. The techs had been exceptionally careful with movie choices since then, sometimes editing out scenes that could potentially be problematic. Thankfully, there hadn’t been another incident yet.

Today was no different. The movie they were watching, _The Little Mermaid 2_ , had been cut up so badly that the run time was sliced down to a mere 45 minutes from its actual 77; the end product was pretty ridiculous.

Ever since Alex’s breakdown, the chairs had also been removed, so now the patients sat on the floor instead; not that they seemed to mind. Raven herself didn’t really mind, even though it meant she had to tilt her head up if she wanted to see Charles’s reaction, if he even had any at all.

Charles was, as expected, not paying attention to the movie. With a blanket covering the bottom half of his body, Charles absent mindedly twiddled his thumbs and only stopped to chew at his already badly bitten fingernails. He would glance around the room every once in a while and then go back to slouching in his wheelchair with his head tilted to one side, eyes unfocused and staring at nothing in particular.

Raven forced herself to turn back to the screen and still her rising anger. She took a deep breath in, then out.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Hank rather indiscreetly turning back to look at her; the boy must’ve thought she didn’t notice his movements. Rather than turning to give him a smile, she decided she wouldn’t acknowledge him, and instead let him believe that she didn’t spot his comically large gestures.

Scanning the rest of the room, she realized there were more bodies present then the last time she visited. There were two that stood out: a brunette teenager that sat away from the crowd and an olive skinned woman with white streaks in her hair. She spotted Darwin and Alex sitting together, but was surprised that Sean wasn’t with them, and neither was Moira. Moira occasionally distanced herself from the group, but the three boys were almost inseparable. Raven found Sean’s absence obvious enough to make note and tuck it away.  They weren’t known for spending time apart.

Jean and Bobby were sitting separate from each other, Jean with Angel, and Bobby with another boy she didn’t recognize. Raven had to wonder if they had gotten into a fight. She would ask Alex later on.

 * * *

Somewhere near tea time they headed out into the courtyard.

Raven wheeled Charles over to one of the benches situated under a tree and stopped the chair right beside it. She sat down and reached her hands up to the sky, stretching her back only to hear the bones pop.

“Oh man, I’m really getting old,” she joked.

This time she didn’t even turn to check if Charles showed any change in expression; she didn’t need to see to know there wouldn’t be. There had been no progress for the last few years and there would be none today.

Slinging one arm over the top rail of the bench, she let her head fall back and closed her eyes for a moment, hoping to drown out the rest of the world. She managed it, if only for a bit, before the guilt came crawling back into her.

She had dragged herself out of bed and traveled all this distance to the hospital to visit her dear brother Charles. And there were things she wanted to tell him, important things, not just the strained, idle small talk she was so used to by now. But sitting here, with her brother by her side, she really didn’t know how to start. Charles was, well… not Charles. Not the Charles Xavier she knew, at least. Her Charles had been stolen, taken away from her by the same fucker who took his legs that god damned day.

What Charles had done to deserve it, she couldn’t fathom. Why of all people, of all the bloody people in the world, had Charles Xavier—genetics professor at Columbia University and assistant researcher for the human evolution project—why had _this_ Charles Xavier that loved humans so much, who wished to help the human race, who wanted nothing more but to believe the best in people… what had this man done to deserve all of this?

The answer was “nothing.” But that wasn’t good enough. She needed someone to blame, to pile all this shit onto.

After everything he’d been through—they’d been through—she couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it. Even with the shell of her brother by her side, she couldn’t fight off the crushing, selfish wish that he hadn’t survived the ordeal.

 

_Is it worth it? I can’t even bloody walk anymore, Raven. Do you have any idea how that feels? Do you have any fucking idea how it feels to **not** feel?  
_

“No, I don’t, Charles. I really don’t,” she found herself saying.

Oh? Had she been talking to herself again? She tended to do that pretty often nowadays, so it wasn’t much of a surprise.

She laughed.

Just then, Jean came striding over.

“Hey hon, how are you?” Raven managed a smile.

Jean nodded her head vigorously and said, “Good! I’m good! You?”

“I’m good too.” Raven replied.

Then Jean just stood there and nervously chewed on her bottom lip, her head hung low. Raven cocked her head to one side, her brows furrowed slightly.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” Raven asked.

Jean nodded and pointed to Bobby, who was currently situated at the far end of the courtyard, grumpily sitting down under another tree.

“Bobby? You’re pointing to Bobby, right?” Jean nodded. “Is there something wrong with Bobby?”

“No.” Jean replied.

Raven stopped to ponder for awhile. Then she said, “Nothing’s wrong _with_ Bobby? Is it something else?”

“Something else.”

“Okay… is Bobby angry at you, or something else?”

Jean shook her head from side to side, hard. “Something else!”

“Hm… are you angry at Bobby, or something else?”

“Something else!”

Speaking to Jean was a bit like playing charades.  Maybe it was the same with all autistic patients, she would probably never know though, since Jean was the only one she spoke to.

“Wait, did he push you again? When no one was looking?”

“Something else!” she said again, this time she was jumping up and down on the balls of her feet, face lighting up with a small smile. She was nearing the answer then.

Then it suddenly came to her. She said, “Oh no... did Bobby hit you when no one was looking?”

“Yes!” she replied happily, clapping her hands and bouncing fully now. Just as quickly, her smile fell and she sulkily hugged her left arm. Raven pushed her sleeves up to reveal an unsightly bruise; Bobby must’ve punched her pretty damn hard.

“Oh Jean, it’s okay. I’ll let Dr. Lehnsherr know about what Bobby did to you, is that alright?”

Jean beamed and nodded her head. She hurriedly ran off in the other direction to where Angel was.

Raven sat back down on her bench again and turned to check on Charles. Yup, same as always: tired looking, lifeless, and seemingly bored out of his mind.

She barely managed a groan as Alex came over and sat down on the bench. Her patience was wearing a bit thin today. They both kept their distance, neither party speaking for a moment. Alex was usually the one to break the silence first, and Raven knew that he would only speak when he was comfortable, so she waited.

Finally, Alex said, “I’m just here to warn you about Hank.”

Raven almost snorted. “What about him? Unless you’re here to tell me he’s going to give me another flower. Then your concern is appreciated, but unnecessary. I think I could actually use a flower today.”

“It isn’t about the flower, although he _is_ planning to give you one during dinner. It’s some flower named after a baby’s breath, or something like that—no wait, I think it’s _called_ baby’s breath. Weird.”

Raven raised one brow at him. He continued, “Anyway, I’m here to warn you about his new book about the evolution of fish.”

“The evolution of fish, really?” she said, her tone patronizing. Hank was after all her favorite and Alex seemed to enjoy giving him a hard time.

“Yes, really. So if he starts blabbering to you about it, you know what to do.”

“And what is that, exactly?”

“Run! That’s what you’re supposed to do. Why the hell would you want to sit there and listen to him blabber about things he doesn’t even understand? You know, he can’t even read! Have I told you that before? I think I have.” Alex threw his hands up into the air, exasperated.

“Yeah well, I’ve known him for years now and I just… I’m not just going to cut him off, or ignore him. I’m not going to be rude. Besides, that’s why we’re all here, isn’t it? We all need a little encouragement, some patience, and a bit of a push, that’s all.”

Raven wasn’t afraid of speaking candidly to Alex. Everyone at the hospital had some sort of mental illness. Many of the patients seemed to cling firmly to their denial, failing to acknowledge they were ill and needed some form of help; Alex wasn’t one of them.

Alex hiked one leg up and hugged his knee close to his body, “Not for him, you don’t. Anymore encouragement and he’s gonna start lecturing us all about whatever new stuff he’s come up with in that crazy head of his.”

“Hm.” Raven simply brushed it aside and checked up on Charles again. He had his eyes closed and a peaceful look on his face. He looked younger, Raven liked that.

“Hey, I was going to ask you, what happened to Sean?”

“He left,” Alex replied with a shrug.

“Left? As in discharged? As in, he’s recovered completely?”

“I wouldn’t say completely, but the techs don’t know shit about it so, whatever. The night before he was supposed to get picked up by his family, he reverted back to Shaun again. He was stammering and mumbling to himself and doing all the stuff he used to do,” Alex rolled his eyes and sighed, “but he’s my friend so I’m not gonna just rat him out like that. Moira left too, one day after Sean did. They’ll probably find each other outside or something. Sean said he was going to marry Moira one day. I’d like to see how exactly he’s going to do that.”

“I see,” was all Raven could say.

_Well, what about you Charles, do you have anything to say to that? Sean and Moira have recovered and left. Any opinions? No?._

She wanted to spit it out bitterly, fuck whoever heard her, but she kept her selfish mouth shut.

Charles was staring at the grass beneath their feet and for a moment she thought there was a grasshopper or something equally gross threatening to climb up her legs. She brushed absently at her calves.

From afar she saw a man appear at the entrance of the courtyard leading to the hospital. He peered around as if looking for someone.

“Oh, there’s my brother Scott. Ok, I’ve gotta run. If you needa know anything else, just let me know.”

“I’ll make a mental note about it, see ya.”

Alex bounded across the field and out of sight.

 * * *

Later in the day they had closure group. Everyone was required to review the weekly goals they had set. Some people met them, others didn’t.

Obviously, Charles never achieved any of his goals because he never wrote any down; the techs didn’t seem to care. It was probably because Charles technically qualified as disabled, although Raven saw no connection between the two things. He could have goals, couldn’t he?

Raven joined in the circle like she always did. Actually, she was the only person to ever join them for their Sunday activities. It wasn’t that the other visitors didn’t want to, it was simply because the doctor, the very kind Erik Lehnsherr, had somehow managed to convince the director to give her a pass. She initially figured he must have pitied her. Why else would he allow an outsider to just join in on Sundays? Seriously, it seemed like it had to be some kind of breach of the Hippocratic Oath or something.  She was just some mute paralyzed guy’s sister.

Apparently it hadn’t been pity that motivated him. He hadn’t even known her when he made the exception, and it was done only _because_ she was Charles’s sister. For some reason, god knows what reason it was, Erik paid particular attention to Charles and was exceptionally kind to him. He showed much more interest in Charles than he did the other patients. Not that Raven minded since it meant Charles had round the clock care when she wasn’t around.

It was Darwin’s turn to speak.

“I wrote down that I would finish up the book I was reading and uh… pick up the clothes for the laundry lady every day for one week.” Darwin smiled proudly. “I managed all of that.”

He sat down, and the crowd clapped encouragingly.

They went around the circle counterclockwise. Alex’s goal was that he would sit his brother down and tell him that he loved him. He managed the first part; he hadn’t been quite as successful with the second.

Jean’s goal was to try and open up to people more. She would start thinking before she spoke so that people could understand what she was trying to say. Because it seemed that often, people just didn’t. She said she was still working on it and that Raven had been her first attempt.

Bobby wanted to be able to push Jean into a puddle of mud. It hadn’t rained that week, so he didn’t achieve his goal. He pouted, not at all made guilty at the horrified expression passing across Jean’s face.

When it was Angel’s turn to speak she said, “I…. I uh… my goal is that I wanted to make the voices stop.” She glanced around nervously. “A-and even if they didn’t stop, I wanted to make sure I would not do what they tell me to. They tell me to run away… to go to the nearest wall and bang my head against it until I bleed and pass out. They tell me to take the fork and stab it into my thigh at dinnertime. They tell me I am stupid, that I am sick and people will always want to hit me.”

Everyone was staring hard at Angel, intently listening to the painful description of her schizophrenia. Even Charles seemed to have actually _heard_ her words, and his eyes settled on Angel’s face for just a few seconds.

“They tell me I can fly. If I jump out of my room’s window, I can fly away with my wings. I can go home.” Angel nodded her head, her fingers tightly intertwined, her body shaking with agitation. “I want to go home. I want to fly away.” The techs were on guard, bodies stilling in anticipation, readying for the emergency code red they thought was about to happen.

“I want to fly away… but I can’t,” she sighed, half in joy and half disappointedly. “… and I won’t.”

Angel sat back down. The others clapped.

 * * *

The time before dinner passed in relative silence.

Raven wheeled Charles over to the corner of the commissary, all the way at the far end. She wasn’t sure if the nurse knew it was their usual table; she didn’t feel like asking. Raven observed the way the patients raced to the front of the line for food. You’d think they were handing out release papers or something, she thought.

“I don’t care how tired you feel, you have to eat something.” She held the spoon of mashed potatoes in front of him. Charles looked away, like a petulant child who wanted nothing more than an entire bar of chocolate for dinner. She couldn’t really blame him. Who would want to swallow down that mushed up excuse of food?

“Come on Charles, just one mouthful? For me?” She batted her eyelids, the way she so often had in the past.

“It’s really good you know. The cafeteria lady is really improving on her skills.”

Charles turned his head away again, this time to look out across the room where the rest of the patients were busy gobbling down their meals.

Raven was shaking, hands clenched into tight fists. She forced herself to put the spoon down gently on the table instead of throwing it on the floor and screaming at her brother.

Just then Erik walked in.

“Charles!” he called out.

Upon hearing Erik’s voice, Charles’s head snapped up, suddenly alert. He turned back to see Erik approaching the pair. Charles smiled; he actually bloody smiled at the doctor, and that small smile quickly turned into a broad grin.

“Raven! You’re here today! It’s so nice to see you again,” Erik said. Just as quickly, Erik kneeled down beside Charles and said, “I’m happy to see you too, Charles. How have you been?”

“…E-eri…” Charles breathed and then tried again. “Erik!”

“Yes, that’s right.” Erik gave his best “Doctor” smile and squeezed Charles’s hand lightly.

Charles seemed to relish in this small amount of physical contact with the doctor, for his grin grew even winder, if that was even possible. He was so happy that it appeared he actually began laughing, both hands clasped tightly around Erik’s.

“Hello Erik,” Raven said, hoping her voice hadn’t sounded too tired and bitter.

“I didn’t see you last week. Busy day?”

“Yeah, I had to mind the store for my stupid boss at the last minute. He suddenly decided he wanted to go out and enjoy himself instead of work, so he called me in about two hours before his shift started.” She groaned. “When I said no, he threatened to fire me, so I had no choice but to go in.”

“Oh… wow, that’s pretty unreasonable of him.” With his free hand, he patted her shoulder in what she assumed was supposed to be a comforting gesture. Unlike Charles, Raven did not turn into an overly excitable bunny.

“Yeah, he is. He’s a complete fucking dickhead, but well…” she paused. She wanted to tell him that she had quit her job, except she was afraid that if she did, Erik would get panicky and start worrying about where the money would come from. And that could only impact Charles’s treatments negatively. And yet, she knew sooner or later the funds would run out, and she wouldn’t be able to pay for it anyways. Then Charles would be thrown out on the streets, and she would be jobless and trying to take care of a grown man all on her own.

“Ah, it’s a depressing story,” she changed the subject. “Anyway, any progress? Is Charles going to get better any time soon?”

Erik frowned at that, he sighed, speaking in a slightly softer voice as if to shield Charles from his words. “I wish I could say that we were on that path, but things don’t look to be improving much at this point. The nurses tell me that he never speaks, never does anything at all in their presence. But on the occasions when I’m able to meet with him he often starts calling my name and attempts some kind of interaction.”

As though on cue, Charles impatiently pulled at Erik’s sleeve and almost appeared to pout.

“Erik…” he whined.

“Alright, alright. You’re such a bossy brat,” he laughed good-naturedly, carding his fingers through Charles’s hair. Charles beamed and leaned into the touch. Raven felt her teeth gritting as she fought off the searing jealousy.

“He likes you doesn’t he?” she asked flatly.

“Well… I don’t know if I’d use those words, but I’m certainly the only person he responds to.” Erik didn’t sound smug about it; he was merely stating a fact. A fact Raven knew very well.

Raven simply shrugged and forced out a small smile.

The rest of dinner was spent watching Erik pat Charles on the head while Charles either grinned happily at it, or whined at the loss of Erik’s hand. Erik would tell Charles jokes and Charles would seem to take a moment to consider the words before _laughing_. Raven could hardly believe it. Charles hadn’t connected with another human in years, and here he was _laughing_ at Erik’s jokes. Charles never said anything other than Erik’s name, and Erik cooed at him whenever he did. Raven supposed he was simply offering Charles encouragement. 

Raven stabbed at her food hatefully.

After the meal, everyone was allowed out to the courtyard again before eventually being sent to their rooms for the night.

While the nurse pushed Charles’s chair into the courtyard, Erik pulled Raven aside.

“I need to ask you about something.”

* * *

Charles had already been tucked into bed when she entered his room again. He wasn’t asleep; his gaze falling atop the blanket covering his body, his bed propped up at a 45 degree angle.

Nurse Jolie was in the room with him. She sat on the chair just beside Charles’s bed.

“Good evening, Miss Xavier,” the nurse greeted

“Good evening.”

Raven walked over to Charles’s bedside and watched her brother’s face. She remembered the way he immediately perked up when Erik appeared and her heart felt like it was breaking apart upon seeing his vacant expression now.

“Sorry…oh god, what’s your—Jolie! Jolie, is that right?” the nurse nodded. “Right, Jolie, okay, I know you’re not supposed to leave his side, especially at night and everything, but I really need you to do me a favor. Can you give me ten minutes alone with him? I just need ten minutes.”

“What? I—Miss Xavier, I wish I could, but I’ll get in trouble with Dr. Lehnsherr and the hospital and then I—”

“Jolie, please.” Raven heard her voice waiver. “I just need ten minutes alone with my brother, that’s all I’m asking. Ten minutes…. Please.”

Nurse Jolie furrowed her brows, right fist clenched over her chest as she thought. Then she said, “Alright. Ten minutes. I’ll be right outside.”

When the nurse left, Raven took her spot beside Charles and sat down.

“Hey Charles,” almost immediately after the words left her mouth she laughed. She was about to say “how’re you doing?” Except she had already said that this morning.

She tried something else.

“Hank gave me pressed flowers again; it’s called Queen Anne’s lace. He apologized that it wasn’t yellow, like my hair, but the fact that it was a ‘queen’ made him think that it would be appropriate for a woman like me,” she joked, holding the pressed flowers in front of him. Charles huffed.

She quickly pulled the dry plants back and held them tightly between her fingers, focusing on the texture.

“I think we used to have some of these back home. I can’t quite remember anymore. Do you remember?”

She dared a glance at her brother, who remained indifferent to her words. She muttered, “of course you don’t.”

She stared at her flowers again, forcing back the tears threatening to flow. She bit the insides of her cheek and took in slow deep breaths. She closed her eyes for a moment.

When she felt calm enough, she peeked out into the dark night through the crack of the curtains. Striding over, she forced an overly enthusiastic grin and tried to sound as excited as possible. “Isn’t it just lovely tonight? The stars are all out and… oh look! There’s mars! That small little dot just over there!” She pushed the curtains aside, stabbing her finger at the transparent glass pane.

Charles had moved his gaze toward the ceiling, eyelids fluttering.

Raven’s body began to shake even more violently now, her hands trembling. She pressed on, trying to pull a reaction out from her obviously restless brother. “You know, I quit my job.” She laughed. “I quit it ‘cause my fucking idiot boss said that if I didn’t start working Sundays, he would have to fire me. So I quit.”

Still no reaction.

“Don’t you want to know how I feel now that I’m jobless? Well, let me just tell you: I feel horrible.” Her voice cracked, “Did you know the funds are nearly exhausted? And I’m fucking jobless, and my roommate is constantly bringing men home to fuck in the next room while I’m slogging away trying to pay the medical bills and my rent.”

As she came back over to Charles, her knees felt weak. She felt like all that strength in her was slowly seeping away as she came dangerously close to tears.

“Do you want to know why Erik pulled me aside just now?” She towered over Charles’s body, hands clutching at the bed’s metal railing. “He asked me if there was something wrong. He said that I looked ‘particularly tired,’ ‘exceptionally agitated.’ He said that if there was anything wrong I could always tell him. So I did,” she shrugged.

“I told him that I was jobless, that my rent was due in a week’s time, that the dinner we just had was the best meal I’ve eaten in two weeks. I told him that I didn’t think I’ll be able to pay your medical bills the next time they came in the mail.” Her hand squeezed even tighter around the railing, knuckles turning white. Her other hand clenched her shirt, just over her chest, as if desperately trying not to claw her heart out. “You know what he said? He said that things were going to be okay. He said the bills would be taken care of as long as he was around.”

She ran her hands through her hair, leaving them to lightly rub at the back of her neck.

“I can’t fucking understand why he’s so nice. He’s giving you special privileges you know: a nurse by your side 24/7, special permission for me to stay beyond actual visiting hours, the attention he shows you, oh my god! He doesn’t _have_ to do any of it, but he does! And it makes you so happy. And now… now he wants to pay for your bills too?”

She couldn’t understand it. She couldn’t comprehend the doctor’s actions. “I… I don’t get any of it. And I certainly don’t understand why he’s offering to pay your bills. Maybe I—” She cut herself off and instead said, “Charles, I took him up on his offer. I told him I’d pay him back one day. He just shook his head and said that it wasn’t necessary.”

Raven was certain she’d imagined it, but she could swear she saw Charles smile. A little tiny smile that was almost unnoticeable in the room’s dim lighting. She had to have imagined the breathless huff of air that sounded almost like a chuckle.

“I don’t know.  Maybe he’s just an amazing guy or something. Maybe he treats all his patients that way? I mean, he’s always been nothing but nice to everyone I’ve seen him with. And maybe I just…” Raven paused to catch her breath, she wasn’t quite sure why she laughed or what exactly she laughed at. “Maybe I just…”

Then the tears started rolling and she allowed herself to cry.

For the first time in years, maybe since the accident, she really cried. Her chest heaved and she soon found herself hyperventilating. She moved to sit down in the chair. With her back hunched, her fingers searched for her brother’s. It was instinctive. She used to do it all the time when they were younger, whenever she was sad and felt unloved. Charles would intertwine their fingers together and they would fall asleep, side by side under a blanket of warmth, away from the chaos of the world.

_It’s alright Raven, everything is going to be fine. Mommy’s just really upset right now, but tomorrow everything’s going to be okay again._

She wished he’d say that to her again, just this once. She wished she could hear his voice again; not just calling for Erik, but calling for her.

“God damn it Charles… I… maybe I’m just selfish. Maybe I’m just fucking jealous that you only seem to give a shit about Erik.” She said it now, finding an odd courage in her tears. “I’m just so tired… I work all the time. I work to pay your bills, to pay my rent, to stay alive. I can’t remember the last time I spent any money on myself. My life is in such a mess… and I always find time to come and visit you.”

She looked longingly at Charles, wishing that all the emotions that poured out meant something to him. That Charles would wake up; her Charles. She just wanted her brother to come back to her.

“Every time I’m here… it’s like you don’t see me. You never react. You just sit there looking tired and bored, which would be fine if you did it to everyone. But you light up like a goddamned Christmas tree for Erik. You _talk_ to Erik. Do you know how that makes me feel? I get so jealous of him. I know he’s your doctor and he cares for you, but… I… I care for you too, Charles. I’m your fucking sister!” She was startled by her raised voice. Her words were laced with panic. She dropped her hands to her lap helplessly.

“I’m your sister, and yet all you remember… is Erik.”

Her anger had reached its crescendo and now she sat limply, her eyes puffy and red from crying. Charles turned his head to the side, such that he was facing away from her. Raven had no idea if he was doing it on purpose.

“I’m your sister … and you don’t even remember me…” she paused. “Do you? Do you remember me, Charles? Can you still remember me?”

Raven reached out for his hand one last time. “Charles, you know… sometimes I think you’re still there. Sometimes I look at you, and you’re smiling. You have that dazed look in your eyes, and your face is expressionless, but somewhere behind that mask I see your smile. You know… sometimes I think you’re still in there, hidden away in that head of yours. The accident took you away from me before you were ever really gone.”

The accident had left him depressed. After months of failed suicides, he had finally popped enough pills to land himself in the hospital where they pumped his stomach and miraculously pulled him back from near death. When he recovered, he managed to attack enough nurses to get himself transferred here, to the mental hospital. 

“Sometimes… I think you’re there, hiding… waiting. Just waiting for someone to rescue you. Maybe Erik’s the one, I don’t know.” She smiled now. “And then I look at you, and I think maybe you’re in there, deep inside that genius brain of yours dreaming something beautiful, creating castles high up in the clouds… making up stories, happy stories.”

Her ten minutes was nearly up and she was glad she had finally stopped crying.

“Charles… won’t you come back to me? Won’t you please come back to me?”

Charles said nothing.

Then there was a knock at the door.

“I’m afraid you’ll have to leave now. I can’t wait any longer. I’m sorry.” The nurse lowered her head apologetically.

“It’s alright. I was just about to go anyway.” She stood up, and allowed herself one last look at her dear brother. “Won’t you please come back to me?” she whispered.

Silence.

Raven grabbed her bag, exited the hospital, and began her long trek home.

 

 

 

* * *

 

**Chapter 3**

“Erik!”

Charles was waving frantically, his face lighting up as Erik strode over. Charles released the brakes on the chair and rolled forward. He was aided by the sloping floor, but eagerly grabbed at the wheels attempting to increase his speed. He ignored his new nurse’s shrieks of horror.

“Mr. Xavier! Please, let me help you!” The nurse rushed to push Charles forward still caught off guard that he would attempt it himself. Erik fought hard to hold back his smile, both at Charles’s eagerness and the nurse’s mini panic attack. No doubt she assumed Erik viewed it as a major misstep; she must’ve surely thought she’d just screwed up in front of one of the senior doctors.

“Dr. Lehnsherr.” The nurse bowed her head, Erik nodded in reply.

“Charles.” Erik kneeled down in front of his patient while Charles stretched his hands forward, demanding a hug from his doctor. Erik shook his head and chuckled, choosing to playfully take Charles’s hand and kiss his knuckles instead. The nurse’s eyes widened, surprise and what seemed like a tinge of fear and embarrassment painted across her face. Erik pretended not to notice her change of expression. He figured if he acted as though this was part of his normal interaction with Charles, the nurse would just accept Erik’s not-so-professional behavior.

“How have you been today? Have you been behaving yourself huh, Charles? Didn’t give the new nurse any trouble now, did you?” From the corner of his eye, Erik saw the nurse flinch, as though not quite sure whether she was supposed to answer for Charles.

 Charles needed no one to answer on his behalf; he happily nodded, like a child waiting to be praised.

“That’s a good boy.” Erik got up to ruffle his patient’s hair, noticing the way Charles hummed appreciatively when he scratched gently at the man’s scalp. Charles had his eyes closed, a pleased smile tugging at his lips; the sunny way Charles’s happiness radiated left Erik believing he could almost imagine the man’s toes wiggling in agreement, but that would be impossible.

“Hey, it’s Saturday, the others are all down in the courtyard playing soccer. Would you like to watch them?”

Charles looked pained, gently shaking his head.

“Alright, no soccer then.” Erik made of show of rubbing his chin with his thumb and index finger. “How about we head to the library? That way you can watch them if you’d like, and if not, we can read a book together. How about that?”

Erik was sure he heard the man utter a quiet “yes.” But Charles had never said anything other than his name before, so he was certain he’d been mistaken. Charles pointed a demanding finger forward, and Erik got behind the chair to push him towards the library, the nurse silently following behind them.

 * * *

Outside the door, Erik realized he’d forgotten this nurse had only recently been assigned to Charles; she didn’t know the way things worked between them. Just as well, really, it wasn’t exactly allowed. When they entered, the nursed trailed along obediently, most likely assuming she would place herself in a corner while the other two had whatever interaction they were going to have.

Erik unconsciously raised one brow at her, before realizing what exactly was going on. He cleared his throat, “Uhum… well er, sorry…” he made sure to be as discreet as he possibly could, stealing a quick glance at her name tag. “Jolie, is that right? Nurse Jolie?”

“Yes, that’s right.”

“Good, okay.” He straightened up and lightly dusted his coat. “ I’m just going to get straight to the point. You’re new here, so you don’t really understand the arrangement between Charles and me. I wasn’t sure if the director had mentioned it to you before, but either way, it’s fine. Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that… whenever Charles and I are in the library, you won’t be needed.”

It’s probably the fifth time he’d said it to a nurse but he still felt it would never get less uncomfortable and awkward. It sometimes felt as if was dismissing the nurses so that he could lock Charles in the library, keep him all to himself and do scandalous things to him while he was vulnerable. It was a bloody good thing he commanded such power in this place. If not, the nurse’s response most likely wouldn’t have been a simple bow her head. She left without a second glance, probably waiting on the other side of the closed door.

Erik let himself breathe a sigh of relief before turning his gaze to Charles who was stretching his left hand out, silently asking for the taller man to hold it.

“Charles,” Erik’s voice sounded hoarse; he cleared his throat before swallowing the thick saliva pooling in his mouth.

The man in the wheelchair wasn’t fazed, his hand still reached out towards Erik’s, wanting to link their fingers together, the way they sometimes did when they were away from prying eyes. Yet, Erik would never touch Charles in the library. He would never allow himself to lay a single finger on the man. Maybe it was the fact that Charles was an academic, and the way his face lit up when Erik had first showed him the library—that look of pure joy and surprise was so innocent, so vulnerable. Erik would never want to take that innocence from Charles. He could never forgive himself for hurting Charles here, in this room. This was a sacred place.

He wheeled Charles over towards the giant window at the opposite end of the room. It overlooked the courtyard and just below them the other patients were playing soccer, fiercely supervised in case any fights should occur.

Charles looked out the window, not at the people below, but upwards at the sky, eyes vacant and with a faraway expression. Although Erik was at his side, Charles seemed to have forgotten the man’s existence, for he was quiet, far quieter then was usual when they were together.

Charles’s silence was typically reserved for the rest of the world: for when Erik was needed in another ward and left him with the nurse in charge, or when Raven came to see him, or when anyone else bothered to speak to him. But not with Erik. When Charles was with Erik, he was bright, almost cheerful, and possessed a bubbly personality. Erik could only imagine these were shadows of who the man used to be.

Erik felt sick, and horribly guilty. He was disgusted with himself. He wanted to run, but he stood his ground. No one could run forever.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Erik said, not even looking at Charles. “You’ll be happy to hear that every one of them have been improving, their conditions stabilizing. Especially Alex, the frequent visits from his brother is doing him a lot of good.”

Charles was plucked from the daze he was in, his head now tilted up, offering Erik a small smile.

Erik forced himself to control his rapidly increasing breaths. He allowed his gaze to fall on Charles’s body, to his legs. The man looked so small, so fragile, Erik wanted nothing more than to protect him from the world and take care of him forever, never let him go.

After a long silence, he grabbed a chair from the desk, placing it at Charles’s side to sit down himself. Their forearms were centimeters from touching, so Erik made sure to be careful with his movements; there would be no physical contact in this room.

Erik felt as though he had to break the silence.

“Charles, how’ve you been feeling lately?” He used what he called his “Doctor” voice, but that didn’t manage to cover the weariness that was leaking into his speech.

Charles said nothing, eyes once again hazy and unfocused.

“Your reports indicate you’re on the way to a swift recovery, it will be no time at all before you’re back to your old self,” he lied with a straight face.

Erik didn’t know what the hell he was doing. Perhaps this was a form of self-torture. He felt so bloody guilty all the time… Lying to his patients was unforgivable, especially Charles, but the fact was Charles would never be able to fully understand what Erik or anyone else is saying—not anymore, at least, not since his accident.

“You know, Raven told me Hank finally came clean the other day. She was picking up some toys from the courtyard when Hank came over with a bouquet of handpicked flowers from the garden. He asked her out.”

Aside from the one raised brow, there was no other indication that Charles understood what Erik had said; his body remained stock still, his muscles taut.

He continued, “She laughed.” He ran one hand through his hair, a broad palm massaging the muscles at the base of his neck. “I suppose she thought it was a joke or something. When she told me the story, she just laughed it off. She probably figures it’s a silly teenage crush. And that’s most likely what it is. She stands up for him when no one else does. I think he’s just confused. I think he _thinks_ he likes her.”

Of course Hank would think he likes her, it couldn’t be actual love. Hank was just confused, mistaking any affection for love, it happens all the time. “She is the only one who’s ever paid him proper attention. Poor boy’s got quite the fixation. It’s just some old fashion puppy love. It’s quite sad, really.”

Charles was grinding his teeth together, Erik could hear it. It sent an unwelcome shiver down his spine and now his voice was wavering and much softer, more cautious. Did Charles understand what he said? Was he angry at Raven for brushing off Hank’s affections like this? Did Charles disapprove?

“I don’t think she’ll ever love him back. At least not the way he loves her. I don’t think she can.” Erik made sure to sound as impartial as he could, phrasing it as though it was more of a fact than an opinion.

Erik heard a hitch in Charles’s breathing, almost like a gasp. It was like treading on thin ice, but Erik needed to say it, as though it would lighten the guilt he carried.

“It will all work out though. Hank is young and will undoubtedly bounce back after a few days of crying. That’s the glory of youth,” Erik laughed dismissively.

By now the sun was gone and the room almost dark, the wind pushing against the window panes, desperately fighting to get in.

Charles looked more gaunt than usual, his eyelids fluttering languidly.

 “Are you cold? You look pale.”

Instinct must have taken over because Erik reached out for him, cupping his lean fingers between his palms and rubbing them together. They were frightfully cold, but Erik didn’t dare rub any harder lest he hurt Charles’s fragile looking fingers.

“Wait here for a bit, I’ll be right back.”

When Erik returned he wrapped a blanket around Charles’s body, tucking him in until he was bundled in a nest of warmth.

Glancing up, he only realized then that Charles’s eyes were closed, his breathing even and drawn out. Peaceful.

“You’ve fallen asleep. Silly Charles.”

Was the sadness within him seeping into his voice? It certainly felt like it; his throat constricted and he had difficulty finding words. There was something about Charles’s face, serene and sleeping, that filled Erik with the dreadful notion that Charles was dead. His mind was playing stupid tricks on him, and he attempted to quell the stifling fear by letting out a short laugh.

Erik sat back down on his chair, then he sighed.

“Charles, I…”

He stopped.

His voice wouldn’t carry, he was so frightened. He would tell Charles everything, tell him the truth—he promised himself. And if he didn’t do this now, he was certain he would never find the courage to ever tell him.

Erik began again, “I don’t know how to say this. I’m not sure how exactly to tell you and–god I feel like such a coward,” he laughed bitterly to himself. “I just want you to know that I’m sorry. I truly am. I cannot even begin to express how fucking guilty I feel. I’m a coward, a complete and utter coward and I will never be able to…”

No, that wasn’t the plan. That wasn’t what he was supposed to say. The truth! He needed to tell Charles the truth. _For fuck’s sake, tell the man the truth._

“I’m not asking for your forgiveness and I wouldn’t expect you to give it to me even if I was. I just need you to tell me it’s alright, Charles. I need you to let me know everything is going to be okay.” Erik clasped both of his hands around Charles’s left.

He was going around in circles, but it seemed as though that’s all he _could_ do.

He was about to cry, he could feel it, feel the burn behind his eyes.

Erik let himself drop to his knees, his forehead pressing against their clasped hands. When he finally spoke, he managed to lift his head just enough to settle his gaze on Charles’s unmoving legs.

“I’m sorry… I really am. And I will take this with me to the grave.” He laid one kiss on Charles’s hand.

 “Good night, Charles, I’ll see you in the morning.”

 * * *

Erik was back in his office, his messy office with papers strewn all over the place. The only thing properly organized were the files, personally indexed by him, and re-categorized every other Tuesday. He supposed it was just a little quirk that he was never able to get rid of.

After Erik called for the nurse to take Charles back to his room, he headed for the office, the heels of his shoes clicking angrily down the hallway.

If he wasn’t going to tell Charles the truth, then he would at least let Raven know. God damn him if he didn’t tell someone what actually bloody happened.

Deft fingers ghosted across the rows of files, they landed on “X” and he pulled the bulky thing out. Flipping through the pages, he finally spotted it: Charles Xavier

 

**_Emergency contact: Raven Darkholme.  
Address: 4146 Skillman Ave, Sunnyside, New York._ **

Erik grabbed a piece of a paper and a pen and got to work.

 

_Dear Raven,_

_How are you? I hope you’ve been well. As for myself, I have been good, although a little busy with work._

_It’s been a long time since I’ve seen you. I heard from Mrs. Turner that it’s become more difficult for you to get here for visits. Just know that Charles has been improving and he misses you._

Misses you? Really? Was Erik actually going to write that? Charles misses no one, hell half the time he doesn’t even look like he knows what’s going on around him. And what the hell was he doing talking to her about how he was busy with work, as if she cared. The only things she would be concerned with was how Charles’s family funds were rapidly depleting and her piles of medical bills. Just as he thought that, Erik scraped the whole thing and started again.

_Dear Raven,_

_How have you been? Mrs. Turner tells me you’ve been busy the last few weekends, I hope you’ve had enough time to take care of yourself, you’ve looked weary the last few times I’ve seen you._

_The boys miss you very much, especially Hank. He’s been asking me when you’ll be coming to visit. He says he’s already picked out a new type of flower, and he’s very eager to give it to you._

_Anyway, I am writing this letter to you in regards to your brother, Charles Xavier. Fret not, this isn’t about hospital bills. You have no need to worry about them and can go about your daily life._

 

What the fuck was he writing, seriously? Reading it over, he could only laugh bitterly at the crap that he’d written. Was he _trying_ to make a fool of himself? Was he actually going to send this rubbish to Raven?

Erik tore the paper in half and sent the objects on his desk flying with one swipe of his arm.

He needed to stop beating around the bush and tell it to her straight. But he knew he could never say it to her face. He could never sit her down, look her in the eye and tell her the shit he had done. He would back out, just like he wanted to now.

God damn it, he felt so pathetic, so filled with anger; he was bursting at the seams with it. The rage within him mixed with sadness and frustration and now he felt the tears from earlier in the evening threatening to spill. So he let them. After all, who would judge him? Alone in the silence of his office, who could see him and send disapproving looks his way? No, no one would, except himself.

He quietly banged his head against his desk, hands coming up to tug at his hair. He was muttering to himself, over and over again, “I’m sorry.”

Who he was saying it to? He really wasn’t sure anymore. Raven? Charles? Himself?

Finally, he reached for a new piece of paper, and another unbroken pen, and wrote everything down. His tears occasionally found their way onto the paper and smudged the inked words.

 

_Dear Raven,_

_I am writing this letter to you in regards to your brother, Charles Xavier._

_I know you have been busy the past few weeks, and your presence has been missed. Forgive me for my frankness, but the staff members tell me that your hospital bills are long overdue. After our last discussion I know you are resistant to my aid._

_I’m letting you know that it is no longer up for discussion. I will be paying your brother’s fees myself. I know that you may not view this as an ideal solution, but please understand that I am only doing this for my own selfish reasons._

_You see, I have been carrying with me a secret, a very dreadful one at that. And after you have read this letter, you may want to remove your brother from this facility._

_I am sure you will never be able to forget how your brother lost his legs. No, how can one ever forget such a horrid thing. You also remember the countless days spent in and out of the hospital, the examinations he had to endure when his mind was still intact. It has been hard on you, yes it has. For you to have to endure all of this, to see your optimistic, enthusiastic, brilliant brother, reduced to such a state… How would you be able to forget that? The nights spent slamming your fists against the bathroom door, desperately trying to convince him to open up and not slit his wrists. How could you forget the night he nearly succeeded, swallowing a handful of pills. It wasn’t enough to do the trick, but it had certainly been enough to steal him from you forever._

_Understand that I am not trying to be cruel. I simply needed to remind you of everything you’ve been through, because now I need to tell you who caused it._

_Remember the man who ran Charles down? Yes, of course you remember. You told me once that you had paid a good sum of money to try and, as you put it, “track the fucker down.” Your face when you uttered those words, it was so pained and tired. I gave you a hug, telling you everything would be alright._

_In that moment I was nothing more than a hypocrite. There I was offering my condolences when what I should have done was to kneel down and beg for forgiveness. I wanted to apologize. But I didn’t._

_I will now. I will apologize for everything I have done to you and to your brother._

_I am sorry._

_Raven, I am so sorry for everything._

_I am the man who ran your brother down that night. The man that got behind the wheel of his car so drunk he could barely see straight. I am the one who chose to drown my sorrows in a bottle. Who spent the night crying and sulking over a woman. I am the man whose selfishness stole your brother’s life, and ultimately stole yours._

_I am so very sorry. I’m not asking for forgiveness, and I don’t deserve it. Getting this off my chest is certainly a selfish act, but I believe you have the right to know the truth as well._

_I can never give you back your brother’s life, or yours either. The only thing I can do now is provide for him where I can. You understand now why I take responsibility for his hospital bills. It is the least I can do after ruining him like this. You also now understand why you have such special privileges here, why you’re the only person allowed to interact with the other patients._

_I do all this to ease the guilt that I feel. Every day, every time I walk into this hospital, every minute I’m here, I am reminded of the horrible act I committed. The guilt I felt when I first laid eyes on your brother is immeasurable. I feel that guilt every moment of my life._

_I apologize for everything. I am so very sorry._

_Take care._

_Erik Lehnsherr_

When he finished, he was crying, his hands shaking. He couldn’t write anymore, and it was just as well, he didn’t need to. His letter was complete. All he had to do now was fold it, stick it in an envelope and mail it.

Yet there was all the hesitation, all the doubt. His confliction reemerged. He hadn’t been able to tell Charles the truth, and now he felt that he didn’t have the courage to complete the rest of this journey. He wanted nothing more than to tear it in half, go home, take a long shower and bury himself in the warmth of his bed. How difficult would it be to continue hiding from the rest of the world and pretending nothing had ever happened?

He had done just that for years, and was tempted to carry on that way for the rest of his life.

Taking a deep breath, he pulled the desk drawer open and took out a lighter. His thumb flicked swiftly, igniting the flame. He watched the orange glow with tears still streaking down his cheeks. He placed the letter over the amber flame and watched the paper burn, the gentle heat a welcome in the coldness of his office.

When he walked out of the room, all that was left were the ashes on his desk.

 

****

**  
**

 

The End 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Charles Xavier: Post traumatic stress disorder, depression, and ultimately an almost complete mental shut down
> 
> Jean Grey: Autistic
> 
> Sean Cassidy: Multiple personality disorder
> 
> Alex Summers: Extreme bi-polar disorder
> 
> Angel Salvadore: Schizophrenia 
> 
> Hank & Drawin: Delusional
> 
> The other characters: unspecified
> 
> Loosely inspired by this [art](http://empty-smile.deviantart.com/art/St-Foster-s-60513412).


End file.
